Nothing about Quinn Fairfield is typical. The outspoken suffragette spends her days as a newspaper reporter, indulging her natural curiosity, and writing sensational headlines. She’s much more likely to be found riding a bicycle around Pendleton than learning the social graces at which her sister, Caitlyn, excels. When Caitlyn announces her plans to wed a man Quinn doesn't trust, she sets out to find a reason to break up the happy couple. In the process, she finds herself falling for an intriguing, gentle-hearted man.

After spending several years in Portland at college, Walker Williams returns to Pendleton, eager to make his mark on the world. Regardless of his upbringing on the nearby Umatilla Reservation, he’s determined to become a legendary architect. Then a feisty red-headed newspaper reporter catches his eye and captures his heart. Walker fights against his feelings for her, determined to shelter Quinn from the prejudices he often experiences because of his heritage.

Can the two of them overcome their fears, set aside the burdens of the past, and surrender to the sweet romance blossoming between them?

Filled with laughter, adventure, and historical tidbits from 1912, Quinn is a sweet historical romance brimming with hope and love.

USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes character-driven romances with relatable heroes and heroines. Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, this hopeless romantic is out to make it happen one story at a time. When she isn’t writing or indulging in chocolate (dark and decadent, please), Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.

Shanna is a member of Western Writers of America, Women Writing the West, Romance Writers of America, Sweet Romance Reads, Cowboy Kisses, and Pioneer Hearts.

“I would have assumed you were the older sister,” he said. A rascally grin transformed his face from handsome man to boyishly charming. “Having two older, bossy sisters myself, I tend to recognize that trait.”

A laugh broke out of her before she could reel it back in. “I think I’ve been insulted, Mr. Williams.” She tossed what was left of the daffodil at him.

He brushed it aside and started to say something, but Holden ran over and threw himself against Walker’s legs.

Walker picked him up and settled his nephew on his lap. “Are you having fun, Holden?”

The little boy nodded his head with such enthusiasm his dark hair flopped across his forehead and into his eyes.

“Can you say hello to Miss Fairfield?” Walker prompted as he brushed the hair from the boy’s face.

“Hello, Miss Fairfield,” Holden said, grinning at her. “I like your hair. Is it on fire?”

Quinn held back a snort of laughter. One thing she liked about children was their ability to speak their mind without filtering their thoughts. “Hello, Holden. It’s nice to see you again. And no, my hair isn’t on fire. Would you like to touch it, just to be sure?”

The little boy nodded and scrambled off Walker’s lap. He scurried across the bench until he leaned against Quinn. Gingerly, he reached out and brushed his hand over the top of her head.

“It’s soft, like my kitty,” he said. Holden took an escaped curl between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it back and forth. “And it smells good. Like flowies.”

“Thank you, Holden. That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Quinn gave the little one a hug before setting him on the bench between her and Walker.

The child gave her one more look then scooted over until he leaned against his uncle. “I’s tired.” Holden scrubbed at his eyes with a fist and his bottom lip began to roll out in a pout.

“Okay, Sprout, let’s get you home.” Walker swung the little boy into his arms as he stood. “Can you tell Miss Fairfield goodbye?”

“Bye, Miss Fairfield,” Holden said before he rested his head against his uncle’s broad shoulder.

Walker glanced down at Quinn and tipped his head to her. “Enjoy your afternoon of solitude, Miss Fairfield, and try not to hate your future brother-in-law too much.”

She sucked in a gulp of surprise. How had Walker known what she was thinking? “I never said I hated him. I never even said I didn’t like him.”

“You didn’t have to. I can sense these things,” Walker said, grinning at her as he turned and walked away with Holden in his arms.